"The Best Man" is the kind of verbally rich, visually spare docudrama that was released every few years in the late 1950s and early 1960s, most of them signaling their intellectual seriousness with black-and-white cinematography and Henry Fonda. (See "Twelve Angry Men" and "Fail Safe" for other entries in this genre.) And here is Henry again, barely disguised as Adlai Stevenson -- he's a brainy former Secretary of State running for President. As a classic Hollywood leading man, Henry had an honorable career playing various versions of himself. In "The Best Man" he is Flawed But Decent Henry, a charming but depressive liberal stuck in a bad marriage, and he's even more convincing than usual, since this version might be closer to the real man than many of the nobler characters he played. Henry's foil is a wild-eyed, perfectly coiffed Cliff Robertson as a ruthless Senator who is vying for the nomination at the nominating convention of the unnamed party to which they belong. The stars do just fine, but the best performance is given by Lee Tracy (whoever the hell he was) as a dying former president whose folksy, Truman-esque (as in Harry, not Capote) demeanor masks a devious insight into men's characters and psychology. The women in the movie are mainly decorative, as befits a movie called "The Best Man" -- they all wear ridiculous blonde bouffants and dutifully step aside when it's time to talk politics. At least Margaret Leighton, as Fonda's estranged wife, is allowed to some depth, although she's a bit of a stereotypical mid-century neurotic housewife, albeit one with a fairly soft edge.
Gore Vidal wrote "The Best Man," and as a film, it's okay . . . genuinely suspenseful, and there's a nice contrast of dialogue between Fonda's glib eloquence, Tracy's homespun sophistry and Robertson's clipped aggressiveness. However, the camera work is bland and the use of stock footage and music is awkward to the point of jarring. As an analysis of American politics in 1964, it's pretty decent . . . Vidal has spent his life around this stuff, so he efficiently but effectively portrays the horse-trading and hypocrisy endemic to the profession. But "The Best Man" is most moving as an elegy. The kind of divided convention depicted in "The Best Man" is impossible today thanks to the Primary system. Also, Vidal is eulogizing the kind of public intellectual that Stevenson epitomized -- the cancer-stricken old President is named "Hockstader" in an apparent homage to the great American political writer Richard Hofstadter, and Henry's closest adviser, played by Kevin McCarthy, sports the bow tie and blazer that symbolize Ivy League credentials. Robertson's simian Senator seems to be the bastard child of John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon, a handsome but unscrupulous Red-baiter with a beautiful but stupid wife (Vidal was no fan of Jackie Kennedy, to whom he was related). "The Best Man" captures the brief moment in American politics when it seemed possible that intellect would triumph over populism, a possibility that Vidal realized is unlikely since he's smarter than Aaron Sorkin.
Gore Vidal wrote "The Best Man," and as a film, it's okay . . . genuinely suspenseful, and there's a nice contrast of dialogue between Fonda's glib eloquence, Tracy's homespun sophistry and Robertson's clipped aggressiveness. However, the camera work is bland and the use of stock footage and music is awkward to the point of jarring. As an analysis of American politics in 1964, it's pretty decent . . . Vidal has spent his life around this stuff, so he efficiently but effectively portrays the horse-trading and hypocrisy endemic to the profession. But "The Best Man" is most moving as an elegy. The kind of divided convention depicted in "The Best Man" is impossible today thanks to the Primary system. Also, Vidal is eulogizing the kind of public intellectual that Stevenson epitomized -- the cancer-stricken old President is named "Hockstader" in an apparent homage to the great American political writer Richard Hofstadter, and Henry's closest adviser, played by Kevin McCarthy, sports the bow tie and blazer that symbolize Ivy League credentials. Robertson's simian Senator seems to be the bastard child of John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon, a handsome but unscrupulous Red-baiter with a beautiful but stupid wife (Vidal was no fan of Jackie Kennedy, to whom he was related). "The Best Man" captures the brief moment in American politics when it seemed possible that intellect would triumph over populism, a possibility that Vidal realized is unlikely since he's smarter than Aaron Sorkin.